About Me

Where I am From.

My name is Abby Hoops and I am from a Southern Indiana. I grew being the only girl cousin surrounded by boys, which made for some rainy summer mud battles. I had no problem chasing after them to build forts and taking great pleasure in destroy said forts after being told "No Girls Are Allowed."

Every Sunday lunch, holiday, and birthdays were spent with the entire family gathered at my momma's house. Not a Sunday didn't go by without stories of what all the older aunts and uncles were like as young adults growing up.

Who I Am.

Everything changed when I picked up a book in my school library and discovered the magical world of fiction. From then on, I was the girl known to have five or more books in my backpack to take home and read every night. And the girl who could read all five books in less than a week.

My imagination soared with stories of aliens, shape shifting people, vampires, werewolves, magic, knights, princesses, and everything else. With all these different stories running through my head, I knew I wanted to create my own.

Where I am Going.

I am currently a Junior at Ball State University getting my bachelor degree in Creative Writing. I want to one day fill other child's my with the impossible and encourage them to always have a book in their hands. Until then, I want to be some sort of Editor/Publisher/ Literary Agent person. I still haven't decided which! :)

April 13, 2017

Night Terrors, Part #5

I red-out. At least that I call the little episode that I go through that causes me to basically black-out, but instead of losing consciousness and sleeping I go on a destructive war path. A red haze covers my vision. Like red blood flows down from the top of my eyes to the bottom of them. I know the second that I can’t seen anything is when all hell’s about to break lose.

When these red-outs happen, I am aware but I am not at the same time. I am awake, but have no control over my body and what it does. It is like blinking between one minutes and the next. One minutes you are arguing with some bully and the next they are on the ground sobbing because of a broken arm, leg, a couple of ribs, and a broken nose. This only has to happy a couple of times before you are label as a freak and a trouble-maker. Always looking for the next fight. By a certain point, you stop trying to explain that you didn’t mean to do it. You own it and threaten anybody that gets in your way, or causes her little brother trouble.

However this red-out is different. Usually when I come out them, I feel great. My knuckles might be a little bruised from hitting somebody, but my body feels so alive and ready for the next fight. Or that it could run the next 10 miles in no trouble. But this time, I come out all tired and raged. My arms are covered in bruises and cuts. My clothes are ripped here and there. I also am panting for breath. All these little sensations cause me to panic inside. I have never had this happen before. It is almost like something kicked my own ass during one of my red-outs, which is impossible. Normally I do the ass kicking.

Looking down at my feet, I can see I am standing in some type of puddle. Lifting up my boots, I can see streams of the goop I am standing in hang off the edge of them. Gross! Putting my foot back down, I look around me. My forehead scrunches as I see I am in some alley. On either side of me are tall apartments buildings with fire escapes going all the way to the roof. Behind me back is some concrete wall, which marks this place as a dead end. Looking in front of me is a normal looking street. Nothing gives me any clue to wear the freak I am at.

I can hear tires running across the street in front of me, when a car drives by. In the quick second where the edge of it’s headlights hit me, I freeze. The puddle of goop I am standing in is red. And not just any red, but the crimson color of wet blood. Shit! Who the hell did I kill this time.